


A Deal Worth Making

by comtessedebussy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Collars, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crop, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/pseuds/comtessedebussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley insists that he requires more than a kiss to seal his deal with Castiel at the beginning of season 6. Cas agrees - reluctantly, of course - and enjoys the experience even more reluctantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deal Worth Making

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the SPN kink meme (see end notes for full prompt as it's long!)
> 
> Also, thanks to satanchangedmypresets for the title!

 “it’s going to take a little more than a kiss to seal this deal.”

Castiel considers him impassively.

“What?”

“Well, you know, seeing how we’ll be working together so –“ he takes a step closer “intimately” he takes Castiel’s tie and pulls him even closer, the distance between their faces now mere centimeters, “I think we both need proof that we’re willing to be this…” he pauses before dropping the word softly. “Intimate.”

“You desire sexual intercourse.” Castiel says it bluntly.

“Now, now, let’s not use such _clinical_ terms.” He leans over to whisper into Castiel’s ear. “It could be nice, you know.”

It’s all Castiel can do not to push away this hell-spouted abomination that’s got its hands all over him. _This is necessary,_ he tells himself.

“Very well. I will…oblige.”

“Oh, you’ll do more than oblige,” Crowley says, and with a snap of the fingers they’re back at Crowley’s mansion. His bedroom is extensive, lush burgundy carpeting stretching everywhere to match the velvet curtains, and in the middle is a bed, canopied and completely round and covered in black silk. It’s got something like a round and intricate headboard, all elegant curves and even symbols wound into the metal.

“How did you – “ A demon should not have the power to take him somewhere against his will.

“I have my ways. King of Hell, and all. Though I think this place is perfectly _heavenly._ I trust it’s to your liking.”

“It is satisfactory,” Castiel says coldly.

Crowley hums thoughtfully before approaching Castiel again and running his hands up to the angel’s tie. “Oh, relax,” he coos, undoing the knot. “It’ll be much more pleasant if you’re not so…frigid.”

Castiel glances down to where Crowley’s hands are shrugging off his trenchcoat – gently, almost – before getting to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“You are an abomination and I am doing this because I must. Now get on with it; I do not see why you require so much _time_ for these trivialities.”

Crowley chuckles.

“ _Because,”_ he says as an object appears in his hand. “It’s more fun that way.”

Castiel glances down to see that Crowley’s holding a collar. What’s more, it’s got sigils inscribed on it. Angel binding sigils.

“No,” he says automatically. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“honey, if I wanted you dead there are much simpler ways to dispatch you. But….we both know that I need you as you  need me, which  means that you’re going to have to trust me. How’s this for the first proof that you do?”

A part of him wanted to smite Crowley then and there and he could, oh he could, but then where would the world be? The world that the Winchesters saved? He closed his eyes. “If I must.”

He felt Crowley’s hands against his skin – gentle, again, as they fastened the collar just right. He could feel the sigils take hold of his grace, felt his power locked up and stowed away. He opened his eyes. The world was still the same; they still stood in a luxurious bedroom. Crowley hadn’t killed him yet.

What he had done, though, was snap his fingers, and Castiel realized that he was now completely naked.

“Go lie on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t sweet talk me,” Castiel raged. It felt a lot less satisfying when he knew he didn’t have the power to back it up.

“Sure thing, hon. Now go lie down.”

Castiel fumed but made his way over to the bed. He lay down – the silk sheets were surprisingly soft and comfortable, but even that couldn’t make him relax when his naked ass was in the air. It was rather embarrassing.

He felt Crowley settle on top of him – the bastard was still fully clothed and Castiel didn’t know why he cared but he did. He felt Crowley’s hands on his ass and gritted his teeth in preparation for pain. But when he felt something slide into him, it was surprisingly small, though the stretch of it was still uncomfortable.

 “Looks like Dean Winchester’s never come to terms with himself and had his way with you so looks like I’m going to have to take it slowly…so much more _work,”_ he complained playfully.

Castiel fumed some more.

He felt Crowley lift himself up and shifted slightly; the toy barely hurt anymore, but it was certainly an uncomfortable intrusion pressing strangely at something inside him. Beside the bed, he heard a hiss and turned his head to see Crowley trying out a crop, swinging a few practice strokes through the air.

Castiel closed his eyes. He was a soldier; he knew pain, and it held no terror for him. Whatever Crowley meant to inflict would be no worse than a wound in battle or a torture in war. And if he closed his eyes he could pretend he wasn’t naked and lying with his ass in the air. If he closed his eyes there would just be the pain, the pain of a soldier fighting for his cause.

Crowley brought the crop down with a hiss and the expected wave of pain lashed through his skin; what he didn’t expect, though, was the wave of pleasure also running through him as the stroke made the toy shift and press at…something…inside him. He failed to stifle a gasp and heard Crowley chuckle before making another stroke. It was the same, the quick pain and insistent pleasure and somewhere below him, Castiel felt his arousal building reluctantly.

“yeah, you like this,” he heard Crowley say somewhere above him, sounding not the least bit surprised. “I’d ask who would’ve ever thought that an angel could be such a slut, but, well, I did. And I’m not usually wrong.”

Crowley gave him a few more strokes and it was all Castiel could do not to moan or whimper. Warriors were stoic. He would be stoic. But Crowley was insistent, bringing the crop down harder each time and Castiel longed for each stroke, ready to ignore the building pain for those few moments of satisfaction that each angry lash gave him. He attempted to shift subtly, seeking friction on his hardened cock that earned him a particularly hard lash. He cried out as the skin broke – no, a warrior did not cry out at pain, but neither would he admit to o succumbing to pleasure at the hands of his enemies.

Crowley’s weight was upon him again, his body pressed above Castiel’s, silk tie tickling the skin of his back as Crowley whispered in his ear. “Turn over for me.” Castiel obeyed, refusing to wince as he put pressure on his sore skin but unable to contain the shiver that ran throw him as the toy shifted inside him and now pressed insistently inside him. He lay back and looked up at the black silken canopy covering the bed. It dipped down in the middle, the cloth swirling elegantly as bits of silk shone in the candle light. The demon did seem to have some taste, Castiel had to admit.

“You little whore,” he heard Crowley’s voice, bringing him back to reality. “Look at you.” Castiel looked back at Crowley, who was surveying his prize in satisfaction.

And Castiel was indeed a sight to behold, Crowley had to admit. His vessel had an angelic grace, its muscles perfectly defined and yet gentle, his swollen cock curving gently up, his skin flushed. It made Crowley even harder to behold him like this, celestial perfection laid out for him on his bed of dark silk.

Then Crowley leaned down to take him into his mouth and he was gone, clinging to the last remnants of angelic restraint as a drowning man clung to a piece of driftwood while Crowley brought him to completion in mere seconds.

“Whore,” Crowley said again as Castiel spilled himself over his chest. “I haven’t even gotten started and you’re already completely gone. That wasn’t part of the agreement, Castiel.” His voice took on just the slightest hint of menace as it came to the angel’s name.

“Any agreement we had deals with the souls and purgatory. We made no agreement regarding…this,” Castiel replied as calmly as he could given the situation.

“no…I suppose not…shame. Still, you wouldn’t want this to be over just yet, would you, angel?”

Castiel brought his eyes back to the silk canopy. “I have no preference either way. I am here to seal a contract.”

“Mmm,” Crowley acquiesced. He snapped his fingers and, cleaning the come off Castiel’s chest before leaning over to mouth kisses over his neck.

“You took such a pretty vessel, though,” Crowley murmured, more kisses running down his shoulder to his chest. “A fitting vessel for an angel,” and now his lips are on Castiel’s nipples and he sucks delicately. Castiel shivers in surprise. “A very _nice_ vessel, too, responds just the way it should,” he murmured, his lips now moving down to Castiel’s hips, and the skin there’s always been delicate, almost ticklish so that Castiel cannot repress a shiver as Crowley plants delicate kisses on his skin.

“You are being…gentle,” Castiel says after a few more seconds of caresses.

“It’d be a shame to break my little angel,” Crowley says.

“I’m an angel. I will not be broken, not by you,” Castiel snaps back.

“Oh? Does that mean,” Crowley asks, his lips tantalizingly near Castiel’s nipple, “that you’d like me to be a little more _rough,_ darling?” He bites down. Castiel’s not expecting it and he only catches his moan as it’s halfway to his lips. His cock takes an interest, too, arousal beginning to bring it to hardness yet again. He almost curses his own angelic stamina.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” and Castiel almost breathes a sigh of relief. Rough he can handle. Pain he can accept. Only his traitorous body does not react to pain as if it is pain. Pain is pure. Pain would wash him of the act he is committing, but his treacherous body taints the purity of pain with pleasure.

Crowley approaches the bed again, and this time there’s the glint in his hand of – an angel blade.

“where did you get that?” Castiel demands. Crowley almost beams in delight at Castiel’s hesitation.

“You…while you were so busy enjoying my kisses.”

A warrior did not lose his own weapon. A warrior did not surrender his own weapon to his enemy to then be killed by it. And yet that was what he had done. His face burned with shame.

“Relax. Like I said, there are much easier ways to kill an angel. Though I can see how this one would be particularly satisfying if, well, if that were my intention.”

Crowley settled on top of Cas again, lifting his legs and running the cold metal of the blade over his skin, pressing it over the swollen, red, bruised skin of his ass and thighs. The cool touch of the blade was almost a relief and Castiel let himself close his eyes and surrender to the touch, just for a minute. It was just a blade on his skin. He had felt blades pressed to his skin before. This was no different.

Oh, but it was, and when Crowley took the blade away Castiel ached for its cold touch. Crowley didn’t miss it for a second. He relished the way the angel’s eyelashes fluttered closed as he felt the blade against his skin, relished running the cool metal over the red welts he’d left, relished the barely perceptible movement Castiel made when he took it away. Crowley pulled the toy out, moving with excruciating slowness as he dragged it past the ring of muscle.

“Still so tight, Cassie. Can’t believe your hole’s so tight when you’re such a fucking slut. Going to have to work on you some more,” Crowley says before Castiel feels something else at his opening, something else pushing in, something cold and round…

‘Yeah…take it, angel,” Crowley orders as he pushes the blade all the way in. “But you don’t get to come this time until I say, understand?”

“Yes,” Castiel replies. He had no intention of coming again a second time, but his body seemed to have other ideas. He could feel his own rock-hard erection again, and he suspected that his new torture would be to hold back.

Crowley’s fucking him open nice and good now, the end of his sword hitting that sweat spot with each thrust and it feels just like the last time, he can feel his orgasm building. He focuses all his energy on holding it back as he drowns beneath waves of pleasure. Crowley clearly sees that he’s close because he stops stills his thrusts and instead adds a few fingers next to the hilt of the blade, a few meaning two, and then he adds two more, and then almost the whole hand. Cas groans, but silently he’s thankful for the preparation. If Crowley sold his soul for a bigger dick (among other things) then Castiel suspects he’s going to need it.

“yeah…almost there. Don’t worry, Cassie, you look like a fucking wreck and it’s perfect.” Crowley removes his fingers and finally, it seems (finally? Cas asks himself) he feels Crowley’s cock at his already-wrecked hole. Crowley pushes in and Castiel stutters in surprise – even after all the prep, Crowley’s _huge_ (the bastard really got a good deal if this is what he was going for) and Castiel allows himself to drown in the pain for a few seconds as Crowley fills him up.

“Perfect,” he hears the demon whisper about him. “Fucking perfect, Castiel, you’re hole is fucking perfect just for me and nobody’s going to want it when I’m done with it. Not your Dean Winchester, not anybody.”

Castiel ignores him. He knows that he’ll heal as soon as the collar is off. He has no doubt Crowley knows it as well, but the demon’s still spilling obscenities as he thrusts harshly. “Feels so good to be ruining you, Cas, and you like it, you like me fucking you open like this, don’t you?” And Castiel is sure that he does feel good, because he can hear just the slightest breaks in Crowley’s voice, can hear the stuttered moans the demon’s letting out in between his words. It gives him the weapon he’s been lacking.

“You’re desperate,” he shoots at Crowley, though it sounds a lot less convincing when _his_ voice breaks in the middle of a particularly deep thrust. Crowley still feels too big to accommodate inside him and the excruciating feel of being stretched is starting to test his endurance, but Crowley’s also hitting his sweet spot just right and jerking him off too (Castiel realizes he missed the point at which Crowley’s hands ended up on his own dick).

“Is this how desperately you wanted a good fuck?” Castiel keeps talking, he _has to_ keep talking through this.

“No more desperately then you, sweetheart…..” Crowley trails off as another moan escapes Castiel to prove his point. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you _liked_ pain,” he drawls. “You _like_ being reduced to a fucking wreck, and when we’re done you’ll be thanking me for ruining you.”

Castiel’s got no protests for him this time, he’s just got the consuming feeling of being taken, taken by whatever Crowley’s doing to him. Warriors do not surrender, but he can’t help it, he’s surrendering to this use of his body, to this degradation, and all he wants right now is for Crowley to keep going. He can feel his orgasm rising to the surface and he nearly succumbs to it before remembering to restrain himself, because he must not succumb or because Crowley told him to, he doesn’t know.

Crowley slows down and Castiel could almost scream in frustration; he’s not even thrusting all the way in anymore, doing nothing but stretching him open agonizingly and avoiding that sweet spot inside him. He clenches his fists. He will not beg Crowley.

He shifts unintentionally, attempts to fuck himself on the cock that’s filling him up so completely but Crowley pushes his hips down, his inhuman force pressing Cas to the bed until he can’t move.

“Stay still,” he orders as he begins moving faster again, and it’s all Castiel can do to hold back and not match his movements. It only takes him a few strokes before he’s coming inside Castiel with satisfaction. He lets out a contented noise. “Feels so good to mark up an angel like this, Cas,” he says before pulling out. He even starts to get up as Castiel makes a noise of protest, still lying still and holding back his own orgasm with the last of his strength.

Crowley takes a good long look at him, the needy angel laid out before him, so completely in his power. Crowley likes power. He’s king of Hell, after all, and it’s pretty damn satisfying (pardon the pun) to have all the demons of damnation at your beck and call. But having an angel stretched out in desperate need before him is another thing.

“Come for me, my angel,” he says, and Castiel seals their deal in a blissful release. Crowley’s next to him in a second, holding him through his release before undoing the collar gently. Castiel heaves a sigh of relief as he feels his power flow back into him, rejuvenating him and healing the marks Crowley’s left on his body – on his vessel, he corrects himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:   
> Almost a cliché by this point, but I'd love if Crowley insisted that he and Cas sealed their S6 deal with sex rather than just a kiss. (Heavy dub-con would be great, but please no non-con.) 
> 
> Now, we canonically know Crowley's huge and Cas's a virgin, so there'd be quite some prep necessary... 
> 
> I'd love for Crowley to really work Cas open in sordid detail, while the angel is all impatient and humiliated and enjoying it against his will and expectations. 
> 
> He could come before Crowley is even halfway there, fucking him with only a finger, or maybe a small toy (or other object -- I'm thinking maybe the hilt of a riding crop?). If you want to write Crowley punishing him for it, that'd be more than okay with me. :D (Spanking, whipping, face-slapping, caning... all welcome, as long as you show Cas getting turned on by it, even while he hates it.)
> 
> Dirty talk from Crowley would be awesome, especially if it's humiliating: he could shame Cas for being a frigid prude at first, then later for being a slut when he starts to enjoy it. I'd love if he also focussed on the stretching, telling Cas how wrecked his hole will be and how no one else will want to use it after Crowley is done with him. 
> 
> The actual sex should be rough and painful despite the prep. (Feel free to work in other kinks like biting, hair-pulling, choking, restraints...) It's important to me that they both get off on it like crazy, though. (Afterwards, Crowley keeping on fingering Cas's fucked-out hole would be hot like whoa.)
> 
> And please, please don't make Cas a blushing victim, make him a pissed-off warrior! All this only happens because he lets it. And sure, he was willing to lay back and think of Heaven, but he didn't sign up for enjoying this and now he really does, but he can still pretend he only does it for the deal. Y/y :D ?


End file.
